


Protex Blue

by Hannibal_Winchester



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Clint, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Top Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibal_Winchester/pseuds/Hannibal_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Moran is sent on a job. Problem is, someone else is after his kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protex Blue

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer* I don't own either of these characters. The title is also a song by The Clash. Sadly, I don't own them either.

The obese couple on the bus were grotesque. There was no nice way of describing them. They practically shone with the grease of the unwashed and had the smell that accompanied it. It’s one thing to be unable to afford to maintain personal hygiene, but to choose not to? To wear the same putrid clothing every day and have hair crisp with grease? People like them were the reason why Seb never liked public transport. Of course now he was usually driven everywhere, or he drove himself. It didn’t take him too long to reach his destination, an old, dilapidated building, ready to fall apart. Ignoring the ‘No Entrance’ sign clinging to a metal door, the tall blond man stealthily crept inside to set up and wait for his target.

A few hours later, as Sebastian lay propped up on his elbows, gazing down the scope of his gun at the Hungarian he had been ordered to take out, he wistfully daydreamed about the different horrific ways he would like to kill the grotesque bus couple. His daydreams continued as he shot down his target. However, they were interrupted by a shout of “FUCK” from the next room. The door burst open and a shortish man entered the room pointing a bow and arrow at Sebastian. ‘What is this, the thirteenth century? Who even uses those now?’ He thought, aiming a gun at the intruder. “What the fuck do you want?” The tiger snarled, fed up that the intruder, clearly another hitman, wasn’t attempting to kill him. “You took my kill” Came the American accent in reply. “You weren’t quick enough” Seb put his gun down and prowled over. “Maybe you should try a less outdated weapon? One from this century?” The bow was dropped and a fist swung out to him. He ducked and tackled the American down to the floor, smirking “No need to get so touchy.” They rolled around, exchanging blows until the shorter man was on top. “You took my kill” He repeated, “You owe me.” “I don’t owe you shit”. These words were accompanied by Seb pushing the American off him and against the wall. The Yank swung them round until his body was pressing Seb into the wall. He could feel an erection pressing into his thigh and ground into it. The Yank grunted and rolled his hips. Soon, they were both grinding and gasping, adrenaline running high. “What do you think I owe you?” Seb growled into the American’s ear, “A kill? Who else am I supposed to kill?” “Fair point. Guess you’ll have to fuck me then.” With that, the Yank was flipped over so his face was scraping against the wall. Strong hands delved into the waistline of his pants, breath hitching as nails grazed sensitive skin, precum smeared over the tip. “Have you got anything on you? I’d rather you didn’t go in dry.” Seb reached for his bag. Gun oil would have to do. He slicked up two fingers and pressed them inside the American. He paused, giving the shorter man time to adjust, before pressing in further and slowly pulling them out, before shoving them in harder and faster, extracting elicit moans from the Yank. Seb grinned and added a third finger, before twisting them, resulting in more lewd noises that stretched Seb’s predatory grin even wider, as well as a gasping “Fuck... fuck me now,”.

Unzipping his leather trousers, Seb grabbed a condom and the gun oil from his bag, thinking to himself, ‘Good old Protex Blue’. He rolled on the condom and drizzled the oil onto his already dripping cock and pushed in. He started off slow, then started furiously pounding, a hard, fast pace that had the shorter man gasping and moaning, writhing between the tiger and the wall. They didn’t last long. With grunts, they emptied themselves. Seb pulled out and removed the soiled condom, carelessly tossing it into his bag (wouldn’t want to leave any evidence that they were ever there). The American grimaced at his soiled trousers, causing Seb to snicker. “If we meet again, I’m fucking you.” “Deal.”  “Until then, what’s your name?” “Sebastian Moran. You?” “I’m Clint. Clint Barton.”

On his way home, thankfully on a bus free from offending people, Seb grinned to himself, imagining Jim’s reaction to his bizarre tale. He’d tell him as he fucked Jim into their mattress. Maybe his boss would do that cute thing where he growls with jealousy, imagining his tiger fucking someone else. Or would instead be envious and wish that he’d been there to watch or to join in, have his turn in fucking Clint. Either way, Seb knew he was in for a fun night.


End file.
